An incident outside the Lulu Mall

By Shevlin Sebastian

On a recent Sunday afternoon, I had just got out of the Lulu Mall, Kochi, with my daughter when a young woman, in a white mask, standing next to an auto-rickshaw nodded at me and said, “Would you have any change?”

She was holding a Rs 500 note in her hand. I checked my purse, and had only Rs 300. In these times of constant card usage, I carry little physical money. So I said that I didn’t have the change and walked away. Twenty metres away, I got an idea.

I returned and said, “How much is the fare?”

She said, “Rs 70.”

I gave her a Rs 100 note and said, “Pay the fare and you can return the money to me through Google Pay.”

She smiled gratefully, and that could only be seen in her eyes. So, the driver paid Rs 30 back to her, and she quickly took down my number.

And then I walked away.

Within a few minutes, my account was credited.

So that went off well.

In the evening, I was chatting with my sister June, who had come from Kottayam on a casual visit. So I recounted the incident with the girl at the auto-rickshaw. Through Google Pay, I realised her name was Rebecca Thomas (name changed).

When I mentioned this name, June immediately said, “I know of Rebecca Thomas.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

Quickly I mentioned, she has a middle name: ‘Susan’.

“Yes, it is the same,” she said. “She was my student in Pallikoodam.”

My sister was Principal and now Administrator of this school in Kottayam, which is run by Mary Roy, the mother of the Booker Prize-winning author Arundhati Roy.

I found the coincidence astonishing.

I called Rebecca. But she seemed to have panicked, thinking I was one of those guys trying to get friendly, even though I met her along with my daughter. Her father picked up the phone. I passed the phone to my sister.

Soon Rebecca came on the line. And she was equally shocked at the coincidence.

She said many people said no when she asked for change, even though she was sure they had the money. It seemed it was instinctive for people to say no. Nobody wanted to do anything out of the way. So, she was glad I took the effort to solve her problem.

(An aside: sometime ago I came up with the idea that if a salesperson comes to the house, and most of the time we usually say no to them, because they sell plastic containers, cups and saucers, Britannica books or the Eureka Forbes vacuum cleaner, I plan to give Rs 100 and say, “This is for tea and biscuits.” The aim is to mitigate the sting of the no. Most of the time, these salespeople are young men and women in their first jobs.)

June and Rebecca spoke for a while and she informed my sister that she had graduated from the OP Jindal Global Law School at Sonipat and was working in a firm at Bangalore.

This incident made me ponder about coincidences. Like most people, I had read Deepak Chopra’s bestselling book, ‘Synchrodestiny: Harnessing the Infinite Power of Coincidence to Create Miracles’.

Here are some quotes from the book:

“I do not believe in meaningless coincidences. I believe every coincidence is a message, a clue about a particular facet of our lives that requires our attention.”

“We cannot even imagine the complex forces behind every event that occurs in our lives.”

“When you live with an appreciation of coincidences and their meanings, you connect with the underlying field of infinite possibilities.”

Of course, all of us have experienced coincidences all the time. You think of somebody and that person calls you up. You have a dream; something in the dream happens in actual life. You meet a stranger unexpectedly; that person changes your life.

But it is too early to say what is the meaning of this unexpected interaction with Rebecca.

The answer lies somewhere in the future.

Where are you now?

 

By Shevlin Sebastian

It was twilight. Walking near several trees, I could see them get darker. The cries of the birds were getting fainter. The sky was darkening. Another day was ending. Nature was shutting down for the night.

As I walked, a thought popped into my head: where is my father right now?

Is he thousands of kilometres or a million light-years away?

Where in the universe do souls go? Is there a particular spot where they all congregate?

It has been over one month since he passed away. Would he have met all the people he knows by now? His parents, grandparents, in-laws, relatives, and friends? How did they recognise each other without their bodies? How did they talk without tongues? What do they communicate with each other? Was it about life on earth, sharing memories and unforgettable events?

How old is my Dad’s soul? When he passed away, he was 94? Would his soul be that age? Or younger? Or ageless?

How does he pass the time? Are there movies to see, or music programmes to attend? Are there coffee shops where souls can hang around and shoot the breeze? Can they sit down without bodies?

Do these spirits ever sleep? Is the light on 24 hours a day? Do they ever feel tired? Do they have regrets they had died? Does a soul have a desire to eat? Or is food of no consequence?

When you meet a former flame, will you try to resume the relationship?

What about people who harmed you and yet reached the place where there is light? Will they ask for forgiveness?

Will those who suffered from mental ailments like schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s, become completely restored after their death?

Is the soul perfect in every way?

What about the dark people of earth: the murderers, killers and thieves? Do they go to a different place than the good people? Is it dark there? Do they feel remorse for their actions?

Can my Dad see me? Watch what I do on earth?

Can he extend help if I am in trouble? Some friends told me they do.

He must be shaking his head, so to say, at the massive ego people have, when he realises the earth is not even a dot in the Milky Way.

Has my Dad seen God yet?

If so, what conversation did he have?

Has he met the human representatives of God? Was he able to have a chat with Jesus, Prophet Muhammad, Guru Nanak, Lord Buddha and the great Hindu saint Ramakrishna Paramahansa?

Is there a possibility he could meet a member of that much-reviled group: a politician? Can they reach the place where there is light, despite their many misdeeds?

Will God assign souls any work? Or will they remain idle?

How do they pass the time?

Do they play sports like football, cricket, or table tennis?

Or are they in a constant state of nirvana?

So many questions.

Who will give the answers?

Nobody.

If they do, it is guesswork.

Nobody knows what happens after we die.

Although my Dad has left physically, he seems to be with me.

I think of him a lot.

Sometimes I cry.

I realised feelings are like an ocean within oneself. When things are okay, the waves are quiescent. But if a big event happens, the waves swirl about, as if a storm is approaching. After a while, the waves of sorrow buffet your body, and you use your willpower to suppress it. For some time, you succeed, but then it gets into a fearsome motion and crashes against your eyelids and the tears flow out in an uncontrollable rush.

Still trying to get used to the lack of the physical presence of my father.

Death is so permanent.

Death, an alien concept in one’s youth is becoming increasingly familiar.

My uncles and aunts have died. A cousin’s wife. Distant relatives. And you battle on, trying to look for the sunny side of life. But it is getting increasingly difficult.

As you age, you can see death grinning at you from the sidelines.

You realise people are dying all the time. You see or hear this when you browse through newspapers, online, on TV and on the radio. Calamities are happening everywhere: natural disasters, accidents, war and murders. One human being killing another. No member of any species kills another of their own with such alarming frequency.

It has become dark now.

I look up at the sky.

I can see a few stars.

The whine of mosquitoes can be heard.

‘Time to go back home’, I think as I dab my eyes with a handkerchief.